It was now the beginning of the third watch, and at Bethlehem
the morning was breaking over the mountains in the east, but so
feebly that it was yet night in the valley. The watchman on the
roof of the old khan, shivering in the chilly air, was listening
for the first distinguishable sounds with which life, awakening,
greets the dawn, when a light came moving up the hill towards
the house. He thought it a torch in some one's hand; next moment
he thought it a meteor; the brilliance grew, however, until it
became a star. Sore afraid, he cried out, and brought everybody
within the walls to the roof. The phenomenon, in eccentric motion,
continued to approach; the rocks, trees, and roadway under it shone
as in a glare of lightning; directly its brightness became blinding.
The more timid of the beholders fell upon their knees, and prayed,
with their faces hidden; the boldest, covering their eyes, crouched,
and now and then snatched glances fearfully. Afterwhile the khan and
everything thereabout lay under the intolerable radiance. Such as
dared look beheld the star standing still directly over the house
in front of the cave where the Child had been born.

In the height of this scene, the wise men came up, and at the gate
dismounted from their camels, and shouted for admission. When the
steward so far mastered his terror as to give them heed, he drew
the bars and opened to them. The camels looked spectral in the
unnatural light, and, besides their outlandishness, there were
in the faces and manner of the three visitors an eagerness and
exaltation which still further excited the keeper's fears and
fancy; he fell back, and for a time could not answer the question
they put to him.

"Is not this Bethlehem of Judea?"

But others came, and by their presence gave him assurance.

"No, this is but the khan; the town lies farther on."

"Is there not here a child newly born?"

The bystanders turned to each other marvelling, though some of
them answered, "Yes, yes."

"Show us to him!" said the Greek, impatiently.

"Show us to him!" cried Balthasar, breaking through his gravity;
"for we have seen his star, even that which ye behold over the
house, and are come to worship him."

The Hindoo clasped his hands, exclaiming, "God indeed lives! Make
haste, make haste! The Savior is found. Blessed, blessed are we
above men!"

The people from the roof came down and followed the strangers as
they were taken through the court and out into the enclosure;
at sight of the star yet above the cave, though less candescent
than before, some turned back afraid; the greater part went on.
As the strangers neared the house, the orb arose; when they were
at the door, it was high up overhead vanishing; when they entered,
it went out lost to sight. And to the witnesses of what then took
place came a conviction that there was a divine relation between
the star and the strangers, which extended also to at least some of
the occupants of the cave. When the door was opened, they crowded in.

The apartment was lighted by a lantern enough to enable the strangers
to find the mother, and the child awake in her lap.

"Is the child thine?" asked Balthasar of Mary.

And she who had kept all the things in the least affecting the
little one, and pondered them in her heart, held it up in the
light, saying,

"He is my son!"

And they fell down and worshipped him.

They saw the child was as other children: about its head was neither
nimbus nor material crown; its lips opened not in speech; if it heard
their expressions of joy, their invocations, their prayers, it made
no sign whatever, but, baby-like, looked longer at the flame in the
lantern than at them.

In a little while they arose, and, returning to the camels,
brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and laid them
before the child, abating nothing of their worshipful speeches;
of which no part is given, for the thoughtful know that the pure
worship of the pure heart was then what it is now, and has always
been, an inspired song.

And this was the Savior they had come so far to find!

Yet they worshipped without a doubt.

Why?

Their faith rested upon the signs sent them by him whom we have
since come to know as the Father; and they were of the kind to
whom his promises were so all-sufficient that they asked nothing
about his ways. Few there were who had seen the signs and heard the
promises--the Mother and Joseph, the shepherds, and the Three--yet
they all believed alike; that is to say, in this period of the plan
of salvation, God was all and the Child nothing. But look forward,
O reader! A time will come when the signs will all proceed from
the Son. Happy they who then believe in him!